With Sisters Like These
by tere moto the sentry
Summary: ...who needs enemies? Gaz knew this simple trinket was important to Dib, but when she learns why, it's too late. Can Dib forgive her this time?
1. Comparatively Normal

Author's Note: This fic is dedicated to Enjoyer Of Humour, who made the story request for it and has been beta reading it.

**Comparatively Normal**

Though it seemed just a simple suburban family of three, the Membrane household never truly had its fair share of normality. It was considering that these three were the famed Professor Membrane, his daughter, and his Earth-defending (a little-known fact) son. It was also considering that their two-story house was surrounded partially by an electric plasma fence and their garage contained an alien spaceship (a little-known fact). What one may consider "normal" was in fact somewhat strange to this family, and the daughter often wished it different. But little did she know that mundane conflict, particularly familial conflict, was unfamiliar territory even to her—and one such dilemma would soon make her miss the more bizarre conundrums in her life (zombie fruit flies infesting the kitchen; frequent break-ins by a particular trigger-happy alien—still more little-known facts). At least _those_ she knew how to deal with. Especially since they often involved violence; _that_ she could understand. It was easy to grab a baseball bat and swing at intruding monsters—it was somewhat like what she did, day in and day out, on her favorite video games. But never had she owned a game based on understanding another's feelings. And though such a game seemed ridiculous to her, she would soon wish she had been the first to play one.

Said mundane conflict was in fact caused by Gaz herself one Saturday as she reclined on the couch and (unsurprisingly) spent hours on her Gameslave 2. Barely even hearing her brother's call of "Going to get more soda, Gaz! Be back soon!" (she may or may not have grunted in reply), she was so immersed in slaying every digital vampire porcine appearing on screen that she nearly (_nearly_) lost track of what level she was on. Upon entering Level—12? Okay, that was right; Level 12—her low battery indicator began to flash. Grumbling, she saved the game and turned it off, stomping to the supply closet. When she found no batteries therein, the girl turned to her room in hopes that her security dolls would contain the required items. They did have working batteries, but not the double-As she needed. Unfortunately, her clock contained triple-As, as did the TV remote.

Gaz was not sure why raiding her brother's room for batteries was a last resort, as she was usually willing to take what she wanted from Dib in the first place. Her agitation quickly mounted as she discovered that his new alarm clock was powered by a wall outlet, as were his other electronics.

She was about to leave when she remembered Dib's hiding spot.

"He better have something with batteries under here." Gaz moved to his bed and lifted away the pillow. There was never any telling what could be found under there, but it was always a sort of treasure trove for her. Sometimes a private diary; other times even technological junk stolen from Zim. But her personal favorite by far was a drawing of Dib striking a heroic pose atop a miniature Earth; holding up Zim's severed head victoriously, with happy-go-lucky people spewing dialogue bubbles of "_Dib, Dib, Dib, Dib!_" Though normally keeping her snooping secret, Gaz had been unable to resist teasing her brother about that one, and having discovered it months ago, had not let him live it down since.

And right now, she would have enjoyed finding such a good laugh in Dib's hiding spot, for it was this time free of anything containing her desired batteries—or anything at all for that matter.

"That Dib," she growled. "Why can't he just sit around playing video games like normal kids? It's not like Zim could ever wise up and—_Uughh!_" Gaz hurled the pillow as hard as she could at the far wall. But her rage was cut short when it struck something. Not just the wall, but something _in_ the wall. Raising an eyebrow, she stepped closer for a better look.

A small square section of the wall in question had depressed a few inches. Gaz curiously pressed on it, and it sunk in further, and to her surprise popped back a few inches out of the wall. The "button" was in fact a sort of drawer, and the girl slowly peered over the top and into it, hopes high that it contained unprecedented secrets, Dib's most personal effects, or at least double-A batteries.

However, the single item it did contain was, much like the day so far, comparatively normal: a single moth-shaped necklace pendant.


	2. Simple Sentiment

Author's Note: Fifth fan-iversary!

**Simple Sentiment**

It was rather large for a pendant; light-colored, shiny; the inner features of the moth shape carved out akin to a cookie cutter. It was familiar, and laying a hand on her chest she easily realized why. It was similar in style to the skull-shaped ornament of her own necklace.

This was it? A well-hidden drawer in the bedroom wall—and this was all Dib had stashed in it?

'_I've never seen him wear this,_' she took the acrylic moth from the drawer and took a closer look. '_Ugh. Then again, maybe that's not such a surprise._' Gaz held it up to the light and scoffed.

"It's almost as dorky as that trench coat he's always weari—" she began aloud, before considering something else. She remembered how dearly he valued that jacket of his; so much that he was always wearing it, in any weather. Why then had she never seen him wearing—or at least carrying in a pocket—this particular trinket? It certainly _seemed_ important to him—being the only item in a secret compartment she had never known of…But then again, maybe that was it. It would not be harmed there, whether Dib was on a "spy mission" at Zim's house or Zim was stumbling through another attempt at ransacking the Membrane house.

No sooner than she finished the thought did the front door open and slam downstairs. It startled her at first, but when she heard her brother's voice call out to her, she became enraged. She had been uncharacteristically alarmed by the idea of someone suddenly entering the home, and the fact that it turned out to only be _him_ turned her face bright red_._

She clenched her fist around the pendant and smiled sadistically. If gaming time had to be cut short, she might as well enjoy a little practical joke. Quickly she shut the wall compartment, replaced the pillow on the bed, and left the room exactly as she had found it—minus one thing of course. She snuck back into her own room with barely a few seconds to spare before Dib entered the upper hallway.

"Gaz, you home?" He called as she stashed the pendant under her headboard and stepped nonchalantly back into the hall.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said sullenly, trying to hide her ill-gotten excitement. "Have you seen any double-As?"

"On the store shelves," Dib smiled, but immediately frowned and quickened his pace to his room. Gaz was not quite one to take a joke.

"If I knew you needed any, I would've picked some up," he offered.

"Whatever," she giggled—more specifically, a stifled giggle managed to escape her. Knob in hand, Dib turned from his door and looked at her questioningly. She made certain to respond with a scowl—an expression more fitting to her—and crossed her arms.

"Did you at least get any soda?" The girl inquired expectantly. "We _are_ out, you know, and Dad's next grocery shopping day is not until next week."

"Um…no." The boy unfortunately could not hide his failure to meet Gaz's demands. But little did he know that his wrathful sibling had a more entertaining matter to attend to than throwing a tantrum.

"Okay." She shrugged and headed back to the living room. Should her brother set foot in her lair against years of previous forbidding, she trusted that her security bots would deal with him. Her treasure would be safe.

Pleased that her old batteries had charged up a bit more power, Gaz reclined on the couch and raced to the next checkpoint. However, she left the volume down so that she could listen to the upper floor. She did not like waiting for things she wanted, but this would be well worth it.

It was Level 14 when the frantic footsteps were heard on the stairs.

"Gaz! Gaz?" The elder sibling appeared. "Have you seen, um, part of a necklace lying around?"

Facing away, she could not help the secret smile creeping onto her face. "No…why?"


	3. Who Laughs Last

**Who Laughs Last…**

"Is it important?" Gaz pried eagerly.

"Um, kinda," Dib's voice was a tad shaky.

"So what is it—magic?" She smirked.

"Not in the way you'd think…"

"Is it one of Zim's little 'toys'?"

"Look, do you know where it is or not?" he demanded. If Gaz didn't know any better, she would be certain her brother looked a little—panicked. She was beginning to love this joke more and more.

"I already said no," she feigned agitation.

"Okay," the boy turned and continued the conversation to himself. "Okay, okay, calm down. I probably took it out the other day and dropped it behind my bed. If I just move the bed away from the wall…"

Gaz bit her lip to hold in the giggle nearly overwhelming her. When she felt it was well under control, she called after him.

"Oh, Dib?"

"Not now, Gaz!" The addressed was nearing the stairs.

"Did it look like—oh, say, a butterfly or something?"

Skidding, the boy could not make it back to her fast enough. His sister secretly reveled in the false hope on his face.

"It was a moth," his breathing quickened. "It was the same style as your skull necklace but it didn't have a ribbon. Do you know anything about it?"

"You know, I might have seen you with something like that a time or two," she lied. "Tell you what, I'll keep an eye out for it, okay?"

Dib was hesitant, obviously rather surprised at her offer. "Um, okay—thanks." He started off for his room again, but Gaz was not done teasing.

"By any chance, do you keep it in your special hiding spot?"

Dib looked back and furrowed a brow. "Uh, no."

"No, not under the pillow," Gaz allowed the evil smile to take hold. "The other hiding spot."

Her brother's face paled. "Gaz? What…_what are you saying?_"

"I'm just saying I'll keep my eye out for it," she grinned, "and maybe—if you do a few things for me—_maybe_ it'll turn up."

"Wh-where is it? _What have you done with it?_"

Gaz crossed her arms. "Whoa, Dib. Try a different tone or something just might happen to it."

Dib was visibly sweating. "Okay, okay! Gaz, please, this isn't funny. I've had that pendant for a long time. It's really important."

"Then I guess you better play your cards right," the devious little girl reclined on the sofa. "First assignment: get me a soda and some AA batteries." She barely had time to blink before her frayed brother was out the door.

The rest of the weekend would then be spent in this same manner; the living room couch serving as Gaz's throne as she gave demands for soda, snacks, batteries; and not only anything else that struck her fancy; but in fact whatever else she could think of. By the end of those two days Dib had been run ragged, and the fact that his sister constantly teased him and fed him false hope of getting his pendant back did not help things at all.

Twenty Poop colas, ten pizzas, and countless other favors later; blessed Monday arrived, wherein Gaz would not be able to order Dib around for some time. Dib normally was not fond of the skool (aside from the chance to monitor Zim), but today he found Ms. Bitters' class to be a welcome refuge from his predicament. However, without the constant distraction of running errands his mind was free to obsess over his lost treasure. His teacher's repetitive "doom" lecture was largely ignored, but subliminally its message was feeding the pit in his stomach.

"Doom, doom, doom. Your future is bleak…doom…"

Loss of this one trinket would not directly doom the world, Dib understood, but it would certainly make it harder for him to save it.

Zim was rather proud of himself this day, having tricked some foolish human into teaching him the disgusting but intriguing art of firing spitballs through a straw. Gleeful at the prospect of this new, easy-to-obtain artillery, he wasted no time in trying out his new skill on the Dib. But his efforts were in vain, as today his target was distant, looking very concerned with other matters. The Dib-beast had more important things to worry about than his mighty enemy? How dare he ignore Zim and his spitballs of doom?

His mind elsewhere, Dib was slightly startled at being approached by a furious-looking Zim after school.

"Human-Dib-pig-cow-smell!" he declared. "I'll have you know that your master-to-be has acquired a new way of bringing about Earth's downfall and you have refused to acknowledge it!" He leaned into Dib's face in a jerking motion, but the boy did not bat an eye. "Zim demands to know the meaning of this!"

Dib nervously shifted feet, only flicking his eyes upward frequently, past Zim, to the door of the skool. After a while his nemesis began to follow his eyes, becoming increasingly annoyed when he couldn't guess Dib's intentions.

"What are you looking at? Tell me!" the alien screeched. He waved a hand furiously in the boy's line of vision and was rewarded with no acknowledgement. "Hey! Heyyyy!"

"I'm waiting for my sister," the kid finally mumbled.

"A sneak attack?" Zim misinterpreted. "Ha! You thought you could keep me wondering while your creepy sibling ambushed me? Well you fail! For I, the keen and perceptive Zim, has found you out!"

When Dib did not retort, the invader supplemented his last sentence. "—and has pre-empted your attack."

Before Earth's defender could react, the invader sprung on him and tackled him to the ground. Taken off guard, Dib tensed and did nothing to counter, which allowed Zim to get into optimum position for pinning him down. When Dib at last got his bearings, though, he blinked at his enemy…and smiled.

Surprised, Zim was confused for a moment, giving Dib adequate time to launch him off and reverse the situation. Having worried all day long, the boy was overjoyed to be participating in a distracting and familiar "activity". Pressed down on his back, Zim was unable to deploy any weaponry from his PAK.

"You filthy, smelly excuse for a—Get off of me!"

"Yes! I've got you now, Zim! Now you get to taste what us 'puny humans' are made of!"

But Dib's triumph was cut short when his current trouble came striding down the steps towards the two. Gaz observed the proceedings smugly; watched as her tormented brother enjoyed a welcome distraction from the stress of the day. A perfect time, she felt, to fray his nerves again.

"Dib! It's time to come home; I've decided I'd like dinner early," she demanded flatly.

Dib glanced back to Zim, and again to his sister, not believing his poor luck.

"Dib," the girl raised a brow impatiently. "We have a long list of things to do tonight. Better get a jump on it."

"Can it wait, Gaz? Please?" he begged.

Gaz glared at him crossly. "I said, 'I've decided I'd like dinner early.' What part of that don't you understand?"

"But this is important!" the boy tightened his hold as Zim began to struggle against his bonds.

"So is this, I believe." She reached calmly into her pocket—and drew out the moth pendant.

Dib's heart visibly leapt. "My—my pendant! Gaz, can I have it back—please? I'll still do all those chores for you tonight, I promise!" He broke into a sweat. "I just really don't want anything to happen to it."

"Which you will demonstrate," his sister insisted, "by coming home and getting dinner _now._"

"But I've got Zim in my grasp! Please oh please, Gaz? It's the fate of the worl—"

He was interrupted by a sickening crunch, and his own world came crashing down.


	4. Or Doesn't

…**Or Doesn't**

"Now you have all the time in the world," Gaz simply said as the shards of plastic fell from her hand. Dib watched them, stiffened, as if freezing in his tracks would magically repair his most valued possession. Zim took the moment of ceasefire to pounce on the boy, but was thrown off rather anticlimactically. Dejected, Dib collected the pieces of the pendant and trudged off down the sidewalk.

Disappointed at the effective but lackluster retaliation, Zim stomped after his enemy.

"Hey! Hey! That's it? You dare walk off on Zim? Come back here!"

When his nemesis paid him no mind, Zim growled and stormed off. "Fine! But you owe Zim a better fight tomorrow!"

Gaz herself felt a little cheated. "Hey!" She caught up with her downcast brother. "Didn't you hear me? I said you have all them time in the world now to play with Zim!" No answer. "Aren't you mad about this? Go beat Zim up!"

Dib stopped, and said something familiar to her before continuing on home.

"You just don't get it."

She had expected him to cry. She had expected him to panic. She had happily anticipated her sibling's hands trembling with worry as he desperately made the futile attempt to glue his precious trinket back together—

Dib was silent that afternoon and evening. No sobbing, no visible mourning or anger—and Gaz could hardly stand it. She almost felt as though she deserved a more satisfying emotional response for her efforts; a better return for the time she invested in this persecution. Things did not seem to add up. Dib was normally neurotic and extroverted; he spoke his mind about significant situations. So if he truly felt so strongly about this cheap jewelry, why was he not saying—

"It's just a game to you, right?"

Gaz looked up in rare surprise. Dib was standing right in front of her, drawing her attention to her surroundings. Preoccupied by her confusion with her brother's uncharacteristic behavior, she just now was truly noticing that it was after dark, she was sitting on the couch—and she had just lost a level.

She growled and reset, momentarily forgetting about Dib's presence. But she had not the time for even a single pig-kill before she saw a flash of beige and black—and the Gameslave was gone from her hands. It took her a moment of shock to realize.

Dib was still standing there, looking more than cross, this time holding her beloved machine.

"I said, 'It's just a game to you, right?' That's all life is to you. Nothing's sacred; everyone's just a pawn that Queen Gaz can manipulate and then throw away when it suits her."

Gaz blinked. She was genuinely taken off guard; a _highly_ unusual occurrence. "Dib—you—" she shook it off "_—give that back._"

"Why?" Dib's voice began to shake. "It's not important to _me._" He clenched his grip on the Gameslave. "What do I care if it's important to anyone else?"

"Dib, you give it back _now!_" Gaz lunged at him, but Dib expertly pulled away from experience.

"Or," the boy fumed, "maybe I should hang on to it and make you do stupid stuff to get it back!" A cracked grin spread across his face. "Then again, maybe we can share."

Before Gaz could snatch it from him, Dib took the screen-half in one hand—

—and snapped it off its hinges.

Gaz looked on in shock as her brother tossed her the bottom half of the Gameslave.

"What's-the-matter?" Dib taunted; but in heaving, faltering gasps. "I gave-you-the bigger-piece."

"…_You…_" Gaz's eyelids began to twitch in fury. "Do you even know _what I went through to get that?_ And all because of your stupid Mysterious Mysteries show that night?" Her eyes began to spit fire. "Do you know how many hours I spent getting _to Level 115?_"

Dib would normally be cowering and pleading for his safety at this outburst, but he stood there stoically, almost as if he felt Gaz could take no more from him. A bizarre quivering was increasing in her stomach; she felt something was glaringly wrong.

Dib dropped his piece of the Gameslave 2 as if it were poison, and held his hands as if they were contaminated with it. He glared at her in novel disgust, and spoke to her the same way—

"At least you didn't get that thing from Mom."


	5. Peripheral Vision

**Peripheral Vision**

Gaz stood there. Stood there and blinked.

"Like I said, it's all a game to you," Dib's lip trembled. "Like Vampire Piggy Hunter. You just lash out at people and everyone is just another ten points to you. Except unlike the vampire piggies, _we're_ not attacking you! People are just minding their own business, and—"

"_Five_ points, Dib. The pigs are each worth five," she glared. "At least get your facts straight."

The boy looked at her incredulously. "You—are you being like that on purpose? I never thought you were that stupid."

Gaz widened an eye. "_You're_ stupid if you think you're going to live after what you—"

"Maybe before you ruin everything someone holds dear, _you_ should get _your_ facts straight about how important that is to them!" Dib's voice had cracked. He marched away before Gaz could say another word to him. She nearly went after him, but decided to let him go. Back to his now pendant-less room, Gaz hoped; to cool down and come up with an apology. That limited edition Gameslave 2 was not nearly as replaceable as he seemed to believe.

* * *

><p>Even though the volume of the Gameslave models did not go as high as Gaz preferred (which would be just loud enough to drown out Dib's rambling) it was still amazing how deafening the silence could be without it.<p>

Without the game's beeping…or was it without Dib's rambling? Which one's lack was reflected more in the atmosphere of the living room? Well, it certainly was not as if she missed her brother's voice more—of course not…but she might as well get _one_ of her two most familiar sounds back. Besides, she had waited long enough for that apology.

"I'm waiting," she declared at his door.

The lights were off, and Dib was on his bed, facing the window.

"For what? The rest of my stuff?" he mumbled bitterly.

"It was _just a piece of plastic!_"

"Like your game."

Gaz fumed, but doing so delayed her protest long enough for Dib to speak again.

"We didn't have any pictures of her."

Gaz was confused (one of the many feelings she hated to admit to herself). "Who?"

"Mom, of course," Dib turned to her. "I don't even remember what she looks like; I was just a toddler. But Dad said she looked like _you…_Maybe that's why I put up with you," he spat bitterly.

Such a brazen (though justified) comment normally would have constituted a black eye in her book, but the unsettling subject of their little-known mother overshadowed this.

She was speechless; Dib swallowed hard. "That moth pendant was the only thing she left behind. Now it feels like she's even farther gone."

His callous sister remained silent, thinking. She had destroyed an artifact from their mother. But…but surely there was some way out of this; there had to be some way that this was not her fault.

"Wh-why did you keep it locked away then?" She mentally scolded herself for stuttering nervously. "Why didn't you ever wear it; like to honor her—" She could not bear to say "memory", so she ended the sentence there. "How was I supposed to know it was important?"

Her argument was unconvincing. "I can do what I want with my stuff," Dib asserted. "And I'm _not_ in the mood for your mind games."

An unfamiliar feeling crept up on Gaz. Her actions had always been right in her mind. She lived free of regrets. It was…what her mother always told her to do. Gaz wondered if Mom had ever imagined her dear daughter destroying one of her precious gifts. Guilt never served Gaz well; no, no, she was well above it. Guilt was for people who…who…

Guilt was for people who manipulated family members.

Guilt was for people who abused others.

Guilt was for people who destroyed mementos of a deceased parent.

And Gaz was running out of ways to rationalize those actions.

She fingered her skull necklace, took a deep breath…and removed it.

"It wasn't the only thing she left." She tossed it onto Dib's bed.

"_Take care of it,_" she added sternly, as if _he_ had caused the destruction of the previous pendant.

Gaz left the room immediately, unable to raise her reddened face. But she only felt shamed for caving in, certainly.

_That_ was her first regret, she told herself.

And she had given her own pendant to—er, _left her pendant with_ Dib, only for her mother's sake.

Not for Dib.

_Not_ for Dib.

_Never_ for Dib.


End file.
